


The Right Weasley

by abigail89



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Comedy, Fluff, Hogwarts Era, Romance, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-23
Updated: 2008-11-23
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail89/pseuds/abigail89
Summary: Ron consoles Harry and both make an obvious discovery.





	The Right Weasley

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> Ahhh, what an oldie!  Written in February 2004 for a hprwfqf.  It may have been the first FQF for Harry/Ron I ever wrote.  Challenge:  "First kiss-Hogwarts years"
> 
> A thousand thanks to The Treacle Tart for a fantastic beta job, comments, the title and some hand-holding. Any mistakes or inconsistencies you see are mine alone. Listening to Elvis Costello's _North_ , songs about loss and rediscovery of love, helped enormously with the rewrite.

Ginny flopped down heavily next to Hermione, her book bag hitting the ground with a thump. She slumped in the hard wooden chair, her eyes half closed and somber, and sighed loudly.  
  
"Did you do it?" Hermione asked without looking up from her scribbling on the parchment.  
  
"Yes," she mumbled, picking at a thread on the sleeve of her robe.  
  
"Publicly?"  
  
Ginny sighed again. "I couldn't do it like that."  
  
Hermione paused for second in her writing. "Perhaps it's best." She turned the page of a large book next to her, reading the words to herself before commencing with the infernal scratching.   
  
Ginny hauled her book bag onto the library table, and began unpacking it with a vengence. "I'm not like you," she said a bit harshly. "Despite it all, Harry is still my friend, and…I love him too much to humiliate him."  
  
Hermione looked up at the red-headed girl at that, and sat back in her chair. "Yes. And Ron will always be my friend, my best friend. Just like Harry. Just like you. And, for your information, I did not humiliate Ron. I needed to do it in public so people would know that we're no longer going out, but that he's still my best friend."  
  
Ginny looked at her again. "You know, I was all prepared to hate you for breaking up with him like that, in front of Malfoy and Snape and everyone else who loves to see Ron get his." She slammed her charms text on the table, earning her a glare and "Tsk" from Madame Pinch. "But he took it rather well and doesn't seem to be the worse for wear. That, and the fact that he's sort of turned it into a personal joke," she said, pulling out the potions text and placing it on the table with a loud thud. "You guys are such great friends, you can get past it. It isn't like that with me and Harry. I'm never going to be in the inner-sanctum that is your friendship with them, you know,"   
  
"You can believe that if you want," Hermione said without a trace of ire.   
  
"Well, I think I can say any chance I had is now spectacularly ruined," Ginny said glumly. "I don't have that same kind of tie with Harry. We might as well be strangers again."  
  
"Oh, I don't know. He has a lot of respect for you and your abilities, just as he has for me. Probably more so since you can play Quidditch. And, you _are_ his best friend's sister.  
  
"Yeah, that's me. Good old Ginny: Quidditch buddy and little sister." She opened the text impatiently and then dug around in her bag for parchment and a quill. "Can I share your ink?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
The two girls sat in silence, each lost in thought and text and writing.  
  
After several minutes, Hermione's curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, "So, what happened?"  
  
"Well, we met up in on the 5th floor corridor after dueling practice; that's where I did it." Ginny paused, and then continued softly. "I know it hasn't been the most…well, passionate relationship I've ever been in, but it was still hard. He's Harry." Ginny leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms out in front of her. "You know, he actually looked relieved. I hate to admit it, but I think you're right about him and Ron.   
  
"Just like Ron did, the hystronics notwithstanding." Hermione sat back in her chair, chewing on the end of her eagle feather quill. "I've been working on Ron a bit. I think he's ready to admit his feelings, but this needs to be done right. D'you happen to know what Harry might be doing this afternoon?"  
  
"Yeah. We walked back to the tower together, and he ran up and got his broomstick. No doubt he was heading out for a bit of flying," Ginny said, settling back into her chair   
  
"Excellent," Hermione said, snapping the book shut. "I'll be back. Time to put part two of my plan into motion."  
  
*~*  
  
Harry trudged down the steps of the entranceway, beloved Firebolt slung over his shoulder. For a boy who had just been dumped by his girlfriend, he walked with a slightly inappropriate lift in his step. Mentally, Harry was slapping himself for letting his relationship with Ginny go down the road of indifference. He had always liked Ginny, better once she got over her feverish first year crush on him. The older Ginny proved to be a good friend, a wicked sidekick, and even a wonderful girlfriend. But, truth be told, he thought she had been more invested in their affair than he had. They hadn't even had sex for Merlin's sake! But wow, could she snog. She had patiently showed him how to hold her so that neither would twist their necks, how to slip his tongue in without being too insistent and at just the right moment, how to position his head so that they could both breathe and allow the kiss to go on and on and on. Damn, she could kiss.   
  
Harry shook his head. Lengthy make-out sessions in odd corridors, empty classrooms, and even in the dark corner of common room couldn't sustain what was obviously a relationship not meant to be. He had to admit that he simply wasn't filled with that heart-pounding passion for her that he had always heard about. Seamus talked about how his body reacted when he was with Hannah Abbott, about how he couldn't seem to get enough of her touches and how hard he got when she kissed him. He felt guilty. _I'm going to have to make this up to her. I just wasn't honest about how I felt from the beginning. It wasn't fair 'cause she didn't deserve this._ Harry resolved to talk to Hermione about recommending a nice parting gift for her.  
  
When he arrived at the pitch it was moving towards late afternoon. The day had been unseasonably warm even though it was mid-October, but a freshening wind reminded him that flying at a high speed would make him sorry if he didn't find something a little heavier than his light cotton pullover shirt and jeans. He ducked inside the changing rooms to find a Quidditch robe. Finding one that fit him reasonably well, he pulled it on, mounted his broomstick, and pushed off into the brilliant blue sky.  
  
He took a deep breath as he gained altitude, thinking about Ginny's parting words to him: _It's not your fault, Harry. Your heart just doesn't seem to be in this, and frankly, neither does mine. Maybe we just had to do this to get it out of our systems, you know. Friends?_   
  
He smiled. Friends. That's what they were. Soaring high over the pitch, Harry's heart felt lighter than it had in months. There really was more than a grain of truth to her words. _Maybe I'm just too close to her. Maybe we really are just friends._ Still, it was awfully decent of her to dump him in private, unlike Hermione. God, in front of Dumbledore, the Slytherins, everyone! He giggled at the thought of the little drama he and Hermione performed that day. Ron had acted all put out and wounded, but Harry knew better. Ron was silently laughing at Hermione's earnest attempt to make it a gentle break up, but wasn't letting her off the hook at all with his histronics. Then, Harry laughed aloud as he remembered Ron's perfectly executed lip-trembling and pitiful puppy-dog eyes. Oh, no. Hermione had really fallen for a performance worthy of any great Shakespearean dramatist that day.   
  
But of course, that hadn't stopped him from using the break-up as an excuse to get completely pissed, courtesy of a couple of bottles of Odgen's Best Firewhiskey from a totally sympathetic Fred Weasley who heard about his ickle brother's public dumping via an express owl from Ginny. The sixth year boys used it as a male bonding experience.   
  
Harry flew several more fast laps and completed a perfect loop-dive before leveling out and slowed to a more leisurely speed. Ron. His best mate. _Who hadn't been any more in love with Hermione than he had with Ginny_ , he realized with a start.   
  
"Hey, Harry! Har-RY!"  
  
Harry looked down at the red-headed figure waving at him, his stomach doing that familiar flip-flopping whenever Ron walked up on him. Or called out to him. Or just smiled at him. Harry gave a whoop when Ron mounted his broomstick and quickly rose into the air to join hom.  
  
"Hey. What are you doing out here?" Ron asked.  
  
"Just needed to clear my head, you know?" Harry said.   
  
"I heard that, well, Ginny just…," Ron said hesitantly.  
  
"Yeah," Harry interrupted. "Can't say that I blame her, really. I'm not such a great catch what with Voldemort and his evil minions gunning for me."  
  
"Yeah, guess so. Still, 's rotten luck, that."  
  
The two flew side-by-side companionably, not saying much after that. After making several lazy passes around the towers, Harry looked over at Ron and noticed he had a bag hanging on his back.  
  
"What'cha got there?"  
  
Ron looked at the bag and grinned. "Hermione told me what happened and thought me and you deserved a little treat." He brought the broomstick to a hover and shrugged one strap of the bag off of his shoulder. He reached in a brought out the neck of a bottle.  
  
"Is that what I think it is?" asked Harry, incredulous.  
  
"Yep. She told me, and I quote, 'Harry was there when I broke up with you; it's only fair you be there for him,'" Ron intoned seriously. "She's got a weird way of seeing things but she's a good friend."  
  
"In more ways than we thought," Harry said, still amazed. "I can't believe she gave you that bottle."  
  
"Well, _she_ didn't, technically. Dobby had this bag ready when I went to the kitchens. Hey, I think there are some sandwiches in here, too," he said, peering into the bag once again. "She told me we'd be better off if we weren't really close to the castle when we got into the bottle."  
  
"I know the perfect place," Harry said. "Let's go."  
  
They flew in that harmonious silence that boys do when there is grave emotional trauma to be avoided. Soon, Harry pointed to a spot high up on a bluff overlooking the lake. They landed with ease and found a spot next to a large boulder in the waning sunshine.  
  
"Cheers, mate," said Ron, handing him the bottle. "I can honestly say that Ginny is making a huge mistake by dumping you."  
  
"Thanks for that," Harry said, taking a short pull on the bottle and swallowing noisily. He coughed as the firewhiskey burned a trail down his esophagus. He looked deeply and thoughtfully into the amber liquid. "You know, we never did anything more than just snog."  
  
Ron laughed, "Yeah. I figured. I mean, you never wore that 'just shagged' grin that Seamus seems to sport these days." He took the bottle from Harry and sipped, his eyes tearing as the alcohol hit the back of his throat. "You didn't take my threat of dismemberment seriously, did you?"  
  
Harry snorted. "'Course not. Ginny would've whipped your arse had you done anything to me." Ron guffawed and shrugged. Harry fell silent as he took the bottle back from Ron, staring down the open mouth. "I don't know," he admitted after a while. "It just wasn't like how Seamus said it was…you know, how being in love made you feel like you can't get enough."  
  
"Ah," Ron said knowingly. After a few heartbeats passed, he said slowly, "So, kinda like me and Hermione?"  
  
Harry looked into Ron's inquiring face. This was the first time either had ever mentioned the matter.   
  
"Um…I think so, if you mean…," Harry quickly sorted through his feelings on the matter. "I think I just knew she wasn't 'the one', you know? She knew that, too. I mean, I like Ginny. She's great. But, like, she's better as a friend. Like Hermione is with us.  
  
Ron nodded. "Yeah, like Hermione.  
  
Harry decided to plunge ahead into the uncharted waters of deep confession. "I-I don't know if I do know who I want." Again, he fell silent; he picked up a sandwich and bit into it, chewing slowly. "Actually," he said softly after a long interval, "I think I do know, but…it's just not possible."   
  
Ron held his breath. "Why not?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "I…I-it… It just can't be, that's all." He reached for the bottle and took a quick slug, head back. He sputtered and coughed hard. Ron reached over and took the bottle, pounding on his friend's back. Harry began to regain his composure, but Ron continued to pat, and then rub circles, on his back. Unconsciously, Harry shifted closer to Ron, enjoying the warmth that seemed to spread from between his shoulder blades to the rest of his body.  
  
They sat in silence, eating the sandwiches and passing the bottle between them. Harry noticed that Ron kept looking at him for a longer and longer times. Ron really was crap at hiding his true feelings. He noticed that when Ron looked away, he would smile that small smile of his, the one that said, "I know something and I really need to tell you."  
  
Harry looked away and out over the lake. Suddenly, he felt Ron's long arm completely encircle his back and the wide hand grasp his shoulder. He was pulled a fierce hug, with Ron's chin resting on the top of his head.  
  
Oh.   
  
Harry's stomach clenched and a river of heat spread throughout his body, pooling in its greatest strength somewhere around his lower abdomen. And it wasn't the alcohol causing it.  
  
He did not draw away, but instead slowly, tentatively put his arms about Ron's waist, expecting Ron to protest or at least say something. But wonder of wonders, instead, Ron reached his free arm around Harry's waist, and they hugged.  
  
And Harry found his true home. In Ron's protective and warm embrace.  
  
They sat for the longest time in each other's arms, watching the sun sink behind the western hills, neither daring nor wanting to do anything to sever themselves from other. A sliver of rhyme ice had formed on the highest peak, and reflected the sun's final rosy brilliance, casting the world before them in a glowing light.   
  
Finally, Harry lifted his head off of Ron's shoulder and leaned back to peer into Ron's blue eyes. Funny, he never realized how much they looked like the sky on a perfect autumn day. Then, Ron released his waist and reached up to pluck Harry's glasses gently from his nose.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
"Shhh, it's okay."  
  
Harry's heart rate sped up. His breathing became more shallow, making his head feel light. Ron was looking at him with an intensity such as he never knew before.  
  
"Ron?" he breathed.  
  
"It's okay."  
  
As if by instinct, Harry dropped his head slightly to the right just as Ron leaned in to kiss him tenderly, lightly on the lips.  
  
With that brief brush, Harry's heart swelled. Suddenly, the world made sense and he understood what Seamus was on about. He knew what he wanted. He knew it was possible.  
  
He wanted _this_ Weasley. And he wanted more of him.   
  
He opened his eyes to find Ron smiling at him just as he dipped his head to claim Harry's lips once again. They drank each other in realization and completion. Ron's lips were dry and cool, so Harry touched them with his tongue, wetting and warming them. Then, without warning, Ron's lips parted and his tongue dove in.   
  
It was the invitation each had been seeking. They encircled the other in their arms once again. Ron, being the larger of the two, pulled Harry closer to him, eliciting a groan of relief and pleasure from them both. He laid them back on the mossy ground, easing them into comfort and bliss.   
  
Kissing Ron was everything that kissing Ginny was not. Fiery, insistent, pulsing--Ron's tongue wound around his, sometimes stabbing, sometimes teasing. Harry's insides felt as though they had turned to molten lava; his head filled with passing reflections of red hair, crinkled blue eyes in laughter or anger, a scratchy chin, lips that were hot, demanding, and surprisingly gentle at times. Ginny was sweetness and laughter, but Ron tasted of the strong tang of aged whiskey and earth and everything that was strength and promise. Harry never wanted this, this _incredible, honest_ feeling, to end.  
  
When the darkness was around them, they parted, panting and grinning in slightly drunken giddiness that had little to do with firewhiskey and everything to do with joy.  
  
"All right?" Ron asked, rubbing Harry's red cheek with his hand.  
  
"Yeah," said Harry, responding to the caress with a broad smile. "Yeah, more than all right."  
  
Ron stood and offered Harry his hands for a pull up. They once again entwined arms about the other, grinning shyly and knowingly at the other. The sky purpled with the last of the sun and began to sparkle with the first stars of night. Ron reached into his robe and handed Harry his glasses.   
  
"How long?" Harry asked, as he adjusted his glasses.  
  
"Dunno." Ron shrugged with a smile.  
  
"Why now?  
  
"It just seemed like the right time."  
  
"Oh," Harry said quietly.  
  
Ron punched him in the arm. "Race you back to the dorm."  
  
*~*  
  
Later, in the dark dormitories of Gryffindor Tower, Head Girl Hermione Granger did a quick bed check of her fellow students. She crept into the seventh year boys' room and found all five four-posters with their curtains closed and the room full of the quiet snuffling of sleep. She tiptoed over to Harry's bed and peeked in. Harry was not there. Concerned, she quietly moved to Ron's where she found the bulge of a foot poking the curtain. She pulled back the curtain and smiled. There, pillowed closely together, were two heads of red and black. Ron, sprawled on his half on his back and snoring softly, had his arm protectively slung about Harry who was curled on his side beside him. She tucked Ron's errant foot under the covers with affection and closed the curtain tightly.  
  
 _About time he was with the right Weasley._

*~* 


End file.
